Hey guys! Welcome to my third fanfic! Just a warning: this is rated M for a reason. If you don't like sex and violence please don't read this. The first chapter isn't like that at all, I'm warning you for future chapters. To those of you who are reading it, Thank you! Please review! I'd love to read what you guys think! Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater no matter how much I wish I did. Now, enjoy chapter 1: The Beginning.
His hands were warm as they trailed up and down her arms. She shuddered slightly at his touch. Her hands roamed his muscled chest. Their lips met and everything was perfect. There was nothing that could separate them. He took her bottom lip in his teeth and tugged slightly. She allowed her tongue free will as she explore his mouth. They moved towards the bed without anything having to be said. But, like always, she managed to slip at the most inappropriate times. They were falling and they didn't care. Her back never made contact with the cold floor.
She woke up with a start. Her back wasn't on the cold floor. Instead, she was in her bed. Alone. Tears began to fill up her eyes. Why'd she have to go and dream of that memory? It was so hard to live everyday, every second, without him. She turned on her side and looked at the clock. 2:23am, it read. She closed her eyes as more tears silently flowed. She swallowed hard and gasped for breath, crying herself back to sleep…
"Hey Maka!" She turned toward the sound of her name.
"Oh, hey, Tsubaki." Maka's voice was raw and tired.
"You okay?" Tsubaki asked, finally taking in her friends depleted state. Maka nodded.
"Yeah, I'm fine, just couldn't sleep is all." Tsubaki nodded, noting that Maka didn't want to talk about it. Tsubaki quickly recovered, babbling about Black Star and what crazy thing he did the night before. They made it to class without any incident but, like always, or rather, until recently, the entire class stared at Maka as she walked in. The whispers started as soon as she sat down. People looked at her with disbelief. How on earth can she still be at the top of the class when something so traumatic has happened to her? How on earth can she still even function? There was disgust mixed in with the disbelief. I could never do what she did. What the hell is she?
Only those who were there still sat next to her. If she avoided her classmates before, now they were avoiding her. The whole incident served as reality check for the rest of the DWMA student body. It was cruel and harsh reminder that the world is dangerous and even the best can falter. The gossip didn't stop until the professor walked in.
"Maka, Lord Death wants a word with you," he said. The class went into a silent uproar. I bet he's going to kick her out. It's about time! I wonder why… Maka heard every single whisper, every new rumor. She kept her chin up not because she really wanted to- she'd rather go curl up into a corner- but because he would have told her to. She walked out of the classroom with her dignity still somewhat intact.
Once outside, she took a shaky breath. She closed her eyes and fought back the tears. They don't know; they weren't there, she reminded herself. Once she felt that her legs could move, she walked to Lord Death's room. She wasn't expecting the sight she saw.
Inside was Lord Death, Death Scythe, Professor Stein, Death the Kid, and the rest of the DWMA administration staff standing in an arc in front of a chair.
"Hello Maka," Lord Death began seriously. Maka quickly assed the situation. Her heart rate sped up as she figured out why she was here.
"Hello Lord Death, Father, every one else," she said slowly.
"Maka," Death the Kid started, "Please have a seat." She eyed the chair in the middle of the room.
"I'd rather stand." Her vice was monotone. She looked at every one's face. She felt her heart break as she saw that they were all in agreement. Her throat constricted, her stomach lurched, and tears began to prick at the corner of her eyes.
"Maka," her father started. No, no, this isn't happening. "We've been talking," her hands began to shake. "And we've come to the conclusion that, maybe," her balance was faltering. "It's time for you to find a new weapon."